


It Makes Things Better

by wildwinterwitch



Series: Driftwood [2]
Category: Broadchurch, True Love (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Series 1 Episode 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 23:18:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwinterwitch/pseuds/wildwinterwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec and Holly share a cuppa</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Makes Things Better

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from _Sea Fog_ by Keane

It Makes Things Better

They sipped their tea in silence, he holding the cup by the handle while she wrapped her fingers around the ceramic for warmth. In the time it had taken him to get their drinks, she’d nipped to the loo to freshen up. There was no trace of her earlier tears; instead, her skin was glowing a soft pink.

“Feeling better?” he asked, popping two pills into his mouth and washing them down with the hot tea. It was so hot his throat ached, and for a moment he squeezed his eyes shut to will away the pain.

“Yeah. You?”

He stared at her.

“Do you have a headache?” she asked, gesturing vaguely at his empty hand. She frowned in concern.

“Aye. From the tension. Fresh air usually works wonders, but, you know.”

Her own tension left her face at his admission. “It’s a tough one.”

He looked through the window and onto the brightly lit promenade. He shouldn’t be here. He certainly didn’t want to discuss the case with this perfect stranger. For all he knew, she might be working for Ollie. Or, worse, Karen White.

“You didn’t cry because of him.” It was either challenging her or leaving. He might have fared better doing the latter.

“No. Does that make me sound callous? It’s horrible, though,” she mused, worrying the back of her thumb with her teeth.

“The world keeps on moving, I suppose,” he said.

“Does it, though?”

He gazed at her. Boyfriend trouble? Serious loss? Weltschmerz? She was a bit old for teenage angst, but clearly too young for a midlife crisis. Depression? He frowned. She was difficult to read, and after she’d taken another sip, she smiled at him. He blinked.

“Thanks for not lying to me,” she said. He looked away. “And for the tea.” She checked her watch. “I’d better get back home. There are things I need to get ready for tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?”

“Another day, Detective Inspector,” she sighed, standing. “Get some air. And drink plenty of water. It’s better than, you know, all those chemicals.”

_Chemicals are what’s keeping me alive, love,_ he thought, but indulged her with a nod. “I will.” 

_Chemicals, and this bloody case._


End file.
